


Red, White, and Me Being Blue

by LittlePanduh



Category: K-pop, 소녀시대 | Girls' Generation | SNSD
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Cold, Colors, Oneshot, Other, Snow, Symbolism, Winter, colorsymbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 16:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14406189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlePanduh/pseuds/LittlePanduh
Summary: In which Jeonju-native Kim Taeyeon expresses her feelings about a cold, New York City winter.





	Red, White, and Me Being Blue

After I graduated, I told myself that it didn’t matter where I lived as long as I had a job. Suddenly the Korean girl from Jeonju moves to the Big Apple and that’s when she takes back everything she says. I did not like the city. Whether it was the heat waves emitting from the machinery in the summer, the fall allergens in the leaves, or the overcrowding amount of tourists in the spring, I couldn’t find anything appealing about the Manhattan scene. Now, it’s the high electricity bill, excessive, bulky layers, and biting winds that make me loathe this city even more. 

Today, I decided to walk home from work. I was already irritated by the long work day and I didn’t want to deal with equally aggravated people in the subway, so I opted to walk home. Back in Jeonju, I used to walk to wherever I needed to go, granted, I lived nearby essentially everything. Nonetheless, I used to enjoy walking. I don’t see the village-style community or grassy mountains, but there’s the concrete jungle and, goodness gracious, it’s snowing. The snow is something I thought I'd get used to since it snowed in Jeonju as well, but snow in Jeonju was just so different than snow in Manhattan. The walk took only a 20 minute, so maybe with this time I could learn to like something about the flurries and below freezing temperature.

 

The snow, it made me numb, not just physically, but maybe even emotionally. The thick snow I walked over made me feel like I was leading nowhere. The white flakes blocking my view gave me a sense of longing. I couldn’t hear anything except the sharp crunch of snow beneath my feet. Trying to warm myself up, I cover my face with my scarf and beanie, but despite my efforts, whatever I breathed in was anything but warm. Whatever I inhaled went straight to my stomach. I could feel the particles, but it wasn’t satisfying my hunger, especially after exerting all this energy by trudging through the snow. I couldn’t tell if my body was shaking anymore, but I could feel my cheeks and ears burning. 

Fifteen minutes. 

It felt like the snowstorm was soon going to engulf me and I would be lost in an empty hall of simply white. Suddenly the big city became even bigger. The tall skyscrapers were covered with snow and everything above me was just white.

It was difficult to see anything. I could barely see the grey pavement or any of the city trees. There were no cars on the road since there were at least three inches of snow on the asphalt. Honestly, you’d have to be crazy to brave this kind of weather. I’m starting to question why I didn’t just tough the peeved city people in the subway. Scanning around, I didn’t think I would see many people on the sidewalk. Blurs of black and brown wool coats caught my eye, but nothing stayed with the falling snow and the passersby rushing to get away from the storm. I was starting to think I was just walking the road alone.

Eight minutes. 

I hated it. I hated feeling alone. What more with the cold weather? 

The sign in front of me says no crossing. I prayed for the light to turn green because standing in the cold felt worse than trudging through the snow. I found a small sense of comfort seeing that there were people braving the storm with me. As I stood by the crosswalk, a taxi slowly drove by. There were a few individuals crossing the streets. Now that I wasn’t moving, I noticed the stores across the street. Although many seemed closed due to this storm, there were a few cafes with the lights on. I guess I wasn’t really alone.

The light turns green and I take a deep breath before taking a step. It’s painful, but I know that after this intersection, I’m only four minutes away from a fireplace and hot chocolate.

Losing sight of the all the stagnant environment around me, I begin to feel the isolation again. I try to focus on the people walking in front of me. It keeps the loneliness at bay, making the last bits of the commute more bearable. 

One of the things keeping me out of this loneliness is the view of a bright red umbrella. Red is typically supposed to represent warm things like love, anger, passion, and violence. It’s the last shade of a sunset in the summer, the leaves in the fall, and the color of lipstick that tourists wear in the spring. For me, the vibrant color just intensifies the bitterness of this snow storm.

I follow the woman with the bright umbrella for some time. Soon enough, she enters a store and I’m back to the blank atmosphere. At least I don’t have to endure it for much longer because, thank goodness, I’m home. 

I enter my apartment complex and melt with the warmth in the lobby. I take the elevator up to the 21st floor, where my studio is. As I open the door, it’s as if I had regained the sense of color. I set my bag down on the mahogany floor, opened my dark brown cupboards, and grabbed my steel kettle. 

As I boil some water for my hot chocolate, I stand by the window. It was hard to believe that less than ten minutes ago, I was cursing at the view in front of me. I promise you it’s a better sight to see in the summer, despite the killer heat waves. There are crowds of people and you can see the clouds caressing the buildings. It’s hectic and it's crazy and it's fast-paced and it’s different than Jeonju. It’s New York. 

It’s a shame, though, that all I see right now are snow-covered buildings. Things are surprisingly calm. Everything is white, except a hint of bright red, emulating from the traffic signs and break lights, warning people to slow down. It’s nothing like I expected—enduring the snow, a winter in Manhattan. 

Do I really hate the city or is this melancholy weather just bringing me down?

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy-doo~
> 
> I was originally going to post this on AFF, but I felt like I wanted to have a more sophisticated debut on AO3, so I posted on here instead! 
> 
> I wrote this one-shot back when I took my creative writing class. I really wanted to post it ASAP as possible, but I realize it may not be appropriate since it's a story about winter and snow and angst, which doesn't really fit the theme of neither summer nor fall, BUT NOW I FINALLY GET TO POST IT. I personally think that a lot of readers from AO3 are more mature and more appreciative than those on other platforms, so please give constructive feedback if you can[:
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this story and I hope you can see more stories from me as well!


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